


Tomorrow

by Kpopnlockit



Category: VIXX
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-17
Updated: 2018-12-17
Packaged: 2019-09-20 19:51:41
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,145
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17028939
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kpopnlockit/pseuds/Kpopnlockit
Summary: Admin R’s first fanfic! And it’s a smut! With Admin O’s VIXX bias. Yeah, she wrote it for Admin O. WHOO~!





	Tomorrow

It had been a long day at school. Wasn’t studying in Korea a life goal of yours once? Something about culture and adventure? Your graduate program was not what you really wanted it to be, but this was the only way you could do what you wanted in life. Helping people help themselves. A self-fulfilling prophecy if there ever was one. Every day was a struggle to remember how to function. Wake up, force self out of bed, clothes, food, school, work, homework, collapse. How long can you go without feeling?

The only time you felt anything was when you ran or danced yourself to the bone. But even that was becoming nothing but a robotic motion. You tell yourself that it will get better, that this feeling would go away, but you know it never really goes away; that no matter how long you struggle it will always come back.

You stretch your muscles. You used to love dancing and the expression it brought. Now you look on in envy as the class moves around you. You don’t even remember walking here. The smile pasted on your face glares back at you through the mirror. Going through the motions of the dance. You wonder how your friend in the city is doing. Maybe you can ditch work and go visit. Maybe some girl time would do you good. Maybe… maybe…. Class over.

You stay behind as your classmates file out of the room. You don’t even remember their names. It’s been three months, but you haven’t made any friends here. You turn the music back on, might as well feel something tonight. You can feel the toenail on your left foot is going to split, but feeling pain is better than not feeling at all. “Up” you think and force yourself on pointe for what feels the hundredth time in an hour. Pique, chaine, pique, chaine, grand jete. You are lost in dance; the pain in your body is the pain of your mind. The music has stopped, but you’re still moving. You halt mid-turn as you realize someone has intruded on your self-punishment. 

You stare into impassive eyes. “What?” you snap. The intruder stares at you impassively, “You should get that checked out.” You look down at your feet. Your satin shoes are stained with blood. So much for pain bringing you relief, you can’t even feel your feet. “Mind your own business!”. As you storm out he raises his arm as if to stop you, but drops it by his side. His friends, you assume, file into the practice room, giving you concerned glances as you grab your bag and storm out.

It had been two weeks since you stormed out of the practice room. Every night you saw him on your way out. Apparently he and his friends were this new group that everyone was excited about. VIXX. They were a bunch of immature jerks from what you saw. Their entire lives were dictated by their job. How could they be so happy? You spent every hour of your time learning how to help others, but you can’t even help yourself. The music stopped again. Crap! You must have lost track of time. He is standing there again; watching you. “What do you want Leo?” you ask sharply. You’re so tired you don’t even register that you know his name. He just looks at you and steps forward with a sad look. You hastily step back “I’m sorry” you say, and you are. You are sorry – sorry that he caught you again at your most vulnerable.

You rush out of the room, tears rolling down your face. You angrily swipe them away as you stomp down to the changing room. Why can’t you get him out of your head? No one like him would be interested in you. You don’t deserve to be happy. You must have done something awful to be suffering like this. You fumble with the lock keeping you from your things. All you want is to rest, but you know that isn’t happening tonight, not after seeing him again. You hear a door open and fumble with the lock again.

A hand lands on your shoulder and a body slams your back forcefully into the lockers. Your mind can barely process that its him before his lips are on yours. His teeth bite into your bottom lip and you moan, pain and pleasure intermingle. You shouldn’t like this; he has no right to touch you, but you find your nails digging into his muscular arms and he holds you in place. A feeling you haven’t felt in years stirs in your belly – you want him. “Leo!” you gasp, startled before his lips are on yours again, biting, nibbling, sucking down your throat to the sweet spot about your collarbone. He murmurs your name against your throat. When did he learn your name? The thought is fleeting as he continues his onslaught. You move to push away, this isn’t right, but he lifts you into the air and presses you firmly against the lockers again, grinding his need into your pelvis. “You want this?” he asks, stroking you through the thin cloth of the leotard between you. You can’t breathe the sensation is so strong. You can feel your dampness like an oasis in the desert.

“Say yes” he demands. How could you say no? You nearly choke “Yes ~ah!”. He moves your leotard to the side and without ceremony he pushes a finger inside you. You bite down on his neck in surprise at the sharpness of pain your tightness causes. He groans. “I just can’t control myself when it comes to you” Then he is inside of you, stretching you. Its as if you are a virgin again – the bittersweet sting of being filled to capacity. He moves in and out of you without apology. With every entrance the lockers dig into your back, but the pain only intensifies your lust. It’s quick and brutal. The pain intermingles with pleasure and builds with each stroke. You’ll be bruised and torn in the morning, but you don’t care. It’s the first real feeling you’ve had in forever. Leo shifts suddenly to lay you down on a nearby bench. He yanks down the top of your leotard to caress your breasts. His mouth moves lower to capture one. Ruthlessly the sensations build as he moves into you again and again and his tongue strokes your nipple. The sensation is blinding as it peaks. Your body collapses against Leo as he finishes close behind. He pulls out abruptly, your leotard snapping back into place. He looms over you breathing heavily. A knock at the door startles you both. “Leo?” calls out N. “Coming”. The door closes again. He looks down at you, your lips swollen and neck bruised. “Tomorrow”.


End file.
